Trapped
by EvanescingSky
Summary: So, several years after Madame Giry brought Erik to the Opera House, we see them beginning to seperate, but perhaps there really was something between them after all? Oneshot.


Antoinette gasped as the darkness overwhelmed her. She could hear the faint sound of her candle rolling off into the depths of the cellars. _Oh, damn!_ She thought furiously. Now it was pitch-black and anything or _anyone_ could sneak up on her. She clutched her sash tighter and crept forward, beginning to regret coming down here at all. But Madame Chantal had been quite adamant about the need for the props during practice today, and stupidly, Antoinette had volunteered to avoid a particularly unpleasant warm-up. Now she was all alone with nothing but her ballet sash and Erik lurking around. She realized she must have gone too deep, because when she couldn't find the props she kept going down. Her green eyes quickly widened to the size of dinner plates. She reached out for the wall, but couldn't find it. She lowered her hands to the ground and groped around for the stairs. Unfortunately, what her hand found was a large, hairy spider. She screamed and danced backwards as the horrible thing scuttled away.

"Ew, ew, ew! I hate spiders!" she shrieked to no one in particular.

Somehow she was certain Erik was involved with the spider. As she was sure he had been with the loss of her pearl earrings this morning, poor Adina, Antoinette's best friend and the usual prop-gatherer being driven off by the 'Opera Ghost' and the hated warm-up Madame Chantal had planned. All of it leading to her being stuck down here with a nasty spider running around her feet. She swallowed hard and forced herself to keep fumbling around for the stairs, despite the risk of more spiders. To her relief, there were none. To her dismay, there was a rope. A carefully laid rope that she tripped over and landed in a hole on her stomach, knocking the wind out of her. She just lay on the ground and try as she might to stop them from coming, tears of frustration burned in her eyes.

"I hate you Erik!" she wailed. "You are a wicked, wicked boy and I hate you!"

There was no response from above and Antoinette let her tears run freely.

"I think it was awful of you to drive off Adina! She's the only friend I've got and now she's gone! It's not her fault she had a natural curiosity."

Antoinette felt that this was a good time to indulge in some self-pity, since she almost never did it. She sat up against the wall and held her head in her hands, knowing that Erik could keep her down here as long as it pleased him. Her fingers would just barely miss the edge of the hole she was in. Mocking singing reached her ears.

"_Oh, poor Antoinette, all alone in the Paris Opera ballet. Boohoo._"

Antoinette looked up, anger smoldering in her eyes.

"Erik, you let me go right now!"

At sixteen, Erik was causing her more trouble than ever, and it made her come visit less and less often, which in turn led to more torments from Erik when she did dare to venture below the Opera House.

"I think I'll keep you here, actually," came Erik's smug voice from above her.

In her anger, the last of Antoinette's tears dried up. She jumped to her feet.

"Erik! You-you-" she had been going to say 'monster' something she used to describe impish children, but she knew to Erik it would mean something very different. But he was smart enough to know what she had been going to say, and why she broke off. His white mask appeared sullenly over the edge of the hole, eyes glaring at her from the darkness.

"Monster?" he finished for her in a silky voice trembling with resentment.

Antoinette looked up at Erik helplessly.

"Erik, you know what I mean!"

"I know you think I'm a monster, and that I deserve to be stuck down here all alone!"

"I do not!" Antoinette protested.

"Then why don't you visit me?" Erik demanded.

"Because every time I come down here, you do things like this!"

"It's not like I have anything else to do," Erik grumbled. "Besides, this is MY territory! Anyone who comes below the ground is subject to my whims!"

Antoinette rolled her eyes. "Stop being melodramatic and help me up."

"If I get you out of the hole, you'll leave," Erik accused. "But as long as I keep you here, you have to talk to me."

Antoinette gasped; horrified at the thought that Erik was really considering keeping her prisoner down here. "You can't! I don't have to talk to anyone!"

"Is the idea of my company so truly abhorrent to you, _mademoiselle?_" Erik spat the word like a curse.

Antoinette stomped her foot. "Erik! People will come looking for me! I'm already late!"

"Not if I were to leave them a note, telling them you ran away, and taking your possessions down into my lair," Erik purred.

"You wouldn't!"

"Oh, me? I could never be THAT clever," Erik said innocently.

Antoinette flopped down on the stone, frustrated almost to tears again with this stubborn, arrogant, selfish boy. "If you keep me down here, I swear to Jesus, Mary and Joseph, I'll never speak another word to you!" she cried defiantly.

"Please, Antoinette," Erik scoffed. "You'll have to speak eventually.

Antoinette clamped her mouth shut and rejected Erik's following attempts at conversation. At last, growing impatient, Erik jumped down into the hole himself and pulled Antoinette to her feet. She couldn't help but be surprised by how much he'd grown. He was taller than her now, by a good several inches. Antoinette's heartbeat sped up to a ridiculous velocity as he grasped her shoulders, his bright yellow eyes burning into hers and he looked like he was about to command her to speak, when he took a closer look at her face, and saw the tearstains on her cheeks. Suddenly, he felt terrible for trapping her down here, and kidnapping her earrings, and driving off Adina with relentless tricks and horrors.

"Were you…crying?"

"Of course not!" Antoinette mumbled indignantly, looking at the floor.

Erik reached out and tipped her face up to look at it.

"You were! You hate it here!" He tried to cover up his guilt by throwing more accusations at her.

"I hate being _trapped_ here!" Antoinette said, snapping her eyes up to glare at Erik.

The two teenagers just scowled at each other for a long moment, and then Antoinette's gaze softened a bit.

"Please let me go, Erik."

Erik released his grip on her and turned away, his shoulders sagging.

"I knew I couldn't keep you down here," he said sadly.

"What do you mean? Of course you can! I can't get out of this place without help!"

"But there's not point!" Erik cried, frustrated. "There's no point in keeping you here if you hate me and won't talk to me!"

"Then maybe you should have _asked_ me to come, instead of luring me down here and then trapping me in a hole!"

Erik turned to look at her, and he looked so unhappy and alone, Antoinette felt a pang of sympathy shoot right to her heart. "You wouldn't have come," he said. "You never come anymore."

"I might have, if you asked," Antoinette said, softer. "Maybe if you didn't try to cover up all your human emotions with anger and arrogance."

"I don't-" Erik began furiously.

"Please, Erik," Antoinette interrupted. "I know you better than you think. I know you're lonely. And bored. And that's why you play tricks on people; it's your way of getting back at the world for mistreating you."

Erik fished frantically for a comeback. "Well…they deserve it! Anyway, if you're so good at analyzing situations, why did I bring you down here?" He quickly changed the subject.

Antoinette shrugged. "Someone to talk to, I suppose. And I'm the only one who knows who you are, and how you got here."

Erik sighed. "You know me too well, Antoinette."

He jumped up and easily pulled himself out of the hole. Lying down on his stomach, he held his bony hands out for her to take.

"I'll pull you up."

"Are you sure about this…?" Antoinette asked uncertainly. Erik didn't look like he had the strength to lift one of the opera singer's wigs, much less a girl two years older than him. But he had stunned her before with his skills and talents, so she grasped his hands and he hauled her over the edge. Given, it was a struggle, and they collapsed in a heap, panting with effort when she finally cleared the edge. Erik eased himself out from under her and wrapped one long arm around her waist, lifting her to her feet.

"Merci," she managed.

Erik just nodded. His gaze didn't waver from hers as they stood in the darkness. Erik looked like he was fighting inside about something to say to her, but hadn't decided whether he would or not. Antoinette felt a bit lightheaded, looking so long into his intense, unblinking eyes. At last he reached out a tentative hand to her face and asked in a whisper,

"May I touch your hair? I've never touched a woman's hair before. My mother would never let me."

Antoinette gave Erik an odd look, but it seemed like an innocent request, so she nodded slowly. One icy hand touched her braid, wrapped up on top of her head and traced down to the soft hairs on the back of her neck. She shivered and closed her eyes, stiffening. Erik started at her movement, and made to draw back, but she caught his wrist. She hesitated, uncertain of what to do now, only sure she didn't want to part ways yet, didn't want to leave Erik down in the catacombs alone again. So she pulled his hand closer and pressed the backs of his fingers against her cheek. Erik jumped again at this sudden intimate contact. Antoinette couldn't suppress a smile.

"You're a jumpy thing, aren't you?"

"One learns to be," he murmured, "When there is always danger about."

His fingers tightened around her hand, and he drew closer to her, and Antoinette could feel her heart hammering in her chest, and she was sure Erik could hear it too. He leaned forward a bit, and if it had been any other boy, Antoinette knew she'd be certain he was going to kiss her. But it was Erik, and Erik never followed the path one expected him to take. He seemed to realize she noticed the slight inclination of his head, and knew he couldn't just pull back now, so he freed his hand and hugged her lightly, briefly, oh, so briefly, brushing her cheek with his. Antoinette knew she would have to close the insurmountable gap between them, caused by Erik's own disbelief that anyone could know him and not be repulsed. As he pulled away from her, his eyes darkened with indescribable grief and age, she darted forward and pressed her lips against his. Erik's whole body went rigid with shock, and for a moment Antoinette was afraid she might have given him an aneurism or something. But then he relaxed and she separated from him just enough to be able to look him in the eyes. He looks down at her, his emotions naked on his face, blinking hard. Then he leaned forward again, trembling violently, and kissed her back His touch, his lips against hers, his angelic voice whispering her name made fire blaze in Antoinette's veins. When at last they break off the kissing, her arms are around his neck and his ever so lightly resting on her hips.

"Antoinette…Ann.." he began, reaching out to brush her cheek.

But at that moment, candlelight broke through the darkness and a voice called, "Antoinette! Antoinette, can you hear me?"

Erik startled and disappeared. Antoinette sighed inwardly.

"I'm here!" she replied.

Madame Chantal and a few of the ballerinas greet her.

"You poor thing!" exclaimed Elizabeth. "Stuck down here in this awful place, all alone!"

Antoinette could sense Erik's anger over Elizabeth's assessment of his home.

"And what happened to your tutu?" put in Odette.

"I fell," Antoinette said.

"She wasn't alone!" said Fantine teasingly. "The Phantom of the Opera was probably watching her!"

"Don't say that!" Antoinette cried with fake horror, giving Fantine a small shove. Inside, she cringed, hoping Erik would know she was faking for the girls .Madame Chantal led them back up the stairs and all the way, even back in the ballet studio, Antoinette could feel Erik's eyes on her, waiting for her return.


End file.
